Baker's Dozen
by greenikat89
Summary: Oneshot Fluff Piece: It's just a lazy Sunday morning and Cloud's sitting at the kitchen table watching Leon bake bread. There's no where else he'd rather be. Cloud/Leon


**Disclaimer: **I don't own anything.

Warnings: OOC, Fluff, Slash, sexual situations, strong language

_A/N: _So this is from the Strifeheart kink meme. I cannot find the specific prompt anymore but it included baking, hands, and lots of fluff.

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><p>Cloud loved Leon's hands. They were pale and slender with delicate looking fingers that belied the hidden strength in them. His palms were calloused from years of wielding his gunblade; his long fingers were marked with faint silver scars from a fighter's lifestyle of hard work and determination. Usually shod in the black leather gloves that Leon favored, they were now bare and dusted in white flour up to his elbows with fingers sunk deep into the soft dough he was working on. The tendons of his arms flexed and bunched as he kneaded the bread, stretching it out, before folding it over to softly punch back down with quiet assurance. Occasionally a hand would dip into Aerith's clay jar of flour to sprinkle onto the worn wooden countertop to prevent the dough from sticking.<p>

It was rare that the two of them were both at home without any really urgent tasks to do, so today was truly a lazy Sunday. Cloud had been sitting at their small kitchen table all morning with a mug of strong coffee cupped in his hands as he watched Leon make various breads from scratch. The kitchen was thick with the smell of yeast and cinnamon spices from the sweet rolls Leon was currently making. It wasn't often Leon traded in his leather jacket for a navy blue chef's apron, but Cloud was glad to be around for the sudden baking interest. Their shared kitchen felt less like a utilitarian barracks kitchen and closer to the homey feeling Aerith always maintained in hers.

A muffin tin of three-clover rolls was cooling on the kitchen windowsill, the steam lazily curling up to form near invisible wisps of patterns in the scented air. Cloud hadn't even bothered to resist snatching a couple when Leon's back was turned, and he popped another butter-drenched piece in his mouth in silent pleasure. It brought back very faint memories of his early childhood when his mother was alive.

Leon certainly didn't have the same vibrant grace of his mother, but that didn't stop the swell of affection Cloud felt watching Leon in their kitchen. The man's brows were furrowed in intense concentration as he silently rolled out the dough with quick, precise movements of the wooden rolling pin. Softened butter was brushed on next followed by heaping spoonfuls of cinnamon and sugar mix. The way those hands spread the sugar over the dough was as gentle and smooth as a caress, and warmth curled up under the collar of Cloud's turtleneck as he watched the way they moved. There were much better ways that Leon could be using his hands for aside from baking.

Cloud slid off his stool with liquid grace, eyes alight with growing desire as he went to Leon and turned him around with a tug at his apron strings. The brunet opened his mouth to say something, but the other man kissed him soundly on the mouth to cut off any protests. His hands firmly planted on the flour-dusted countertop on either side of the lithe body, breath a little rougher with lust when he pulled back.

"What was that for?" Leon asked with a slight hitch to his voice. His hands had somehow made their way up to grip soft blond spikes, and Cloud found he didn't care that they were likely covered in flour.

The swordsman gave an easy shrug. "Your hands," he answered, arms winding around a slender waist to pull Leon closer to him.

A smile curled up the corners of Leon's mouth, stormy grey eyes crinkling in quiet amusement. It was one of those rare smiles the gunblader only occasionally gave out, and it made a rush of love go through Cloud. "There are other things I could do with my hands too," he said suggestively and palmed the growing erection in the blonde's pants.

"You know, I was thinking the same thing," Cloud groaned and planted a kiss on the tip of Leon's flour-dusted nose. Air hissed through his clenched teeth when clever fingers slipped underneath his jeans, knees wobbling and he had to grip the counter for support. Fuck, Cloud loved Leon's hands.


End file.
